One
by Damien Hills
Summary: I can't remember anything, can't tell if this is true or dream...[Songfic]


ONE  
  
[I can't remember anything - Can't tell if this is true or dream]  
  
Am I living?  
  
Am I dead?  
  
I...can see nothing but blurriness.  
  
I feel nothing.  
  
Am I...nothing? Surely I exist.  
  
Do I exist?  
  
[Deep down inside I feel to scream - This terrible silence stops me]  
  
Where am I?  
  
I struggle to look around. It has been so long since I moved my eyes.  
  
Everything...out of focus...am I lying in a coffin? Am I dead?  
  
Have I been buried alive?  
  
No. Movement. Coffins don't have movement.  
  
Bubbles. Rising slowly...I must be underwater...  
  
Yes. The cool water numbs my body. I am underwater...yet I am breathing...how is that so?  
  
I can feel none of my limbs. Hard to tell whether it is the water, or whether it is something else. I have not moved in a very long while...  
  
How much time has been spent in this underwater prison? Days? Weeks? Months? Nothing has been here for at least a few years. It is too quiet to be regularly visited.  
  
This place is too quiet...  
  
[Now that the war is through with me - I'm waking up I cannot see - That there's not much left of me - Nothing is real but pain now]  
  
I try to end the numb feeling that has rendered me useless. Move, dammit!  
  
It is of no use. Nothing else to do but let my mind wander...  
  
I can remember almost nothing. How it is I came to be here, why I am here. Who I am. The answers to these questions must be inside me, locked away. But how to unlock a mind that has been resting for countless hours?  
  
Slumber calls for me. Should I continue my rest, or attempt to figure it all out? Either way I am occupied.  
  
So many questions...unanswered questions...questions that may never be answered...  
  
Staring into oblivion, I begin to delve. Searching for answers. Answers that may not exist...  
  
Why do I exist? Why must I exist? I am stuck here, with nothing to do. Though it seems I have been here quite a while, I wonder if I will go insane. Will I have to keep myself company forever?  
  
Have I already gone insane?  
  
I have better things to do than question my sanity. Deep down inside my brain lies the answer to all my questions.  
  
All I need is time...  
  
[Hold my breath as I wish for death - Oh please god wake me]  
  
Time. Time seems endless. How long must I stay submerged in this pool of water which surrounds me? I have unlimited time before I drown; I have survived this long. I have been conscious for quite some time. Who knows how long it's been since I was put in whatever this is.  
  
Boredom is approaching swiftly. Eventually my queries will be answered, and I will be left with nothing. Left to try in vain to move any part of my body.  
  
There is no way out that I can see. If I were to break free of the numbness, I would be stuck underwater.  
  
But at least I'd be able to kill myself...  
  
Kill myself? Am I even sure I'm alive?  
  
I wish I could remember anything...  
  
Am I capable of remembering?  
  
Sitting here, suspended and immobile, is starting to get to me. If I was offered a chance to end this forever, I wouldn't even have to consider it. Anything's better than what I am beginning to think is hell. But hell would at least keep me busy.  
  
Trying to figure this out is impossible!  
  
Maybe this is why I slipped into unconsciousness in the first place. Maybe the never-ending silence drove me into a state of unawareness. It would explain why I can't remember my past; sleep doesn't exercise the brain well.  
  
Maybe merely staying awake will bring it all back...  
  
But merely staying awake is proving to be a challenge. I could easily begin to rest, and forget to wake myself up. With no memory whatsoever, how does one keep himself amused?  
  
Dead silence. No matter how hard I listen, there is no sound. I cannot feel anything. Not even the gentle flow of the water. I try to open my mouth, but it's as though I do not have one. I try to kick, but not so much as a slight tremor.  
  
The water itself is of no help; I cannot see anything except for the slow rising of bubbles. Why must I be tortured like this? Am I being punished for something I did when I was living?  
  
No one deserves this. The only thing to keep me from falling asleep is the thought that maybe my memory will come back to me.  
  
I hope it's soon...  
  
[Back in the womb it's much too real - In pumps life that I must feel]  
  
Could...could it be...I am remembering! My waiting has paid off!  
  
I am observing two men fighting. They are in what seems like a fighting ring, each holding a sword of equal length.  
  
There is a shout, and they immediately start swinging their swords at each other. They clang together, the men trying their best to defeat their opponent.  
  
One jabs his sword straight into the others' armour. It is weak, as the sword passes right through. When it is withdrawn, blood is dripping from the tip, and the victim is holding his chest, desperately trying to close the wound. He is no longer concentrating on the fight, which is worse. Another jab, and a cut appears straight through the victim's shoulder. Now he has both his hands busy trying to stop leakage of blood, much to the delight of his opponent.  
  
He smiles at the man kneeling before him, savouring the moment. The crowd gathered around this ring are chanting something in a foreign tongue; and for a few seconds nothing happens. The victim looks up at the man who injured him in cold blood, a look of desperation on his face.  
  
With a swift stab the opponent has got his victim straight through the heart. A scream of pain leaves the victim's mouth, and within seconds he is lying dead on the floor.  
  
There is a flash, and I am sitting in a bar. A familiar face is next to me, but I can't quite put my finger on who he is.  
  
There is idle chit-chat in the background. I take a sip from the mug in front of me, and look to the familiar face. He is saying something, though I'm not sure what. I nod in agreement, and am about to raise my mug again when the door bursts open behind me.  
  
The whole pub goes quiet as two men, faces scarred from battle, burst in and look around. The man, who I suddenly remember the name of, turns as one of the men says something. Jonathan stands up, his hand drifting towards the throwing knives hidden beneath his coat.  
  
The two men speak to him, and his reply makes them angry for some reason. They pull out a crossbow, and begin to fire. I duck as Jonathan runs sideways further into the bar, crossbow bolts just missing him. He jumps onto a table, knocking the table-occupants' liquor over, and hurls a knife at the men. His shot hits bullseye, and one of them falls to the floor, the knife protruding from his head.  
  
He leaps from the table, and the drunks are nearly hit by the remaining man's crossbow bolt. Jonathan lands, pulls out another knife, and throws it. The man ducks, and the knife hits the space where his head used to be. Without warning, he begins firing wildly at the whole pub; but my friend is nowhere to be seen.  
  
I am back in the water again. I silently pray that the memories will continue, but once again I am left to entertain myself.  
  
I am slowly remembering...  
  
[But can't look forward to reveal - Look to the time when I'll live]  
  
Now I know, at least, that I have lived. Questions have been answered, however I still do not know why I am here, or who I am.  
  
I sit for hours on end, waiting for my memories to return so I can try to make sense of this situation. Maybe the key to ending it will be revealed to me.  
  
I feel rays of sun on my skin and am floating no more.  
  
I am being questioned by the Cowled Wizards. Something has happened involving me. I tell them that they are wrong, that they are wasting their time.  
  
I stand looking to the sky. Why would the Cowled Wizards target me for questioning, out in the open? Have they not considered the possibility that someone will overhear?  
  
But the streets are empty. The only sound is of waves crashing against the walls of the Docks District. The only living things are the Cowled Wizards and I. Even the seagulls are absent. The seagulls are never absent...  
  
They ask me what I am doing. I'm here to visit relatives. At least, that's the explanation I give to them. I am not on secret business as far as they know.  
  
The Wizards think for a while, wondering whether my excuse is plausible, then leave after telling me not to wander the paths which evil wanders every day.  
  
The plan worked.  
  
I am now in an underground building. Jonathan is standing there. The Cowled Wizards believe he is attempting to take over Athkatla, that he is creating a secret army to overthrow the authorities. They couldn't be further from the truth.  
  
Jonathan knows of a mole in the Cowled Wizards. He is causing havoc and blaming it on his colleagues, creating laws that do not make sense. All it takes is the identity of the mole to be uncovered before the final stage of the plan begins.  
  
Someone is to go undercover. Pretend to be a Cowled Wizard. This is the only way to identify the mole, and it could take months, maybe years before the mole is realised. Once the name of the mole is discovered, that undercover Wizard must then take him out. Find a weakness, exploit it.  
  
At the same time, the others of this select group must keep the Cowled Wizards from learning this plan. For it to work, the Docks District (where the group is situated) could not be swarming with people. A little hocus pocus, a Cacofiend rampage, instant evacuation. The Cowled Wizards caught onto this however, and guessed that Jonathan was behind it.  
  
I am to be the undercover Wizard. I must apply for the job of Cowled Wizard, and observe their actions. Find the mole. Assassinate him.  
  
The memory remains long after the flow of thoughts has stopped...  
  
[Fed through the tube that sticks in me - Just like a wartime novelty - Tied to machines that make me be - Cut this life off from me]  
  
I sit here in nothingness. Waiting for another fragment of my life to unfold before my eyes.  
  
Waiting does not pass the time very well. With no way to keep track of time, I could wait an eternity and never know whether mere minutes have passed, or whether days have passed. I become anxious, hoping that in my mind there is a way to escape this prison. As more time passes, I become more anxious. I start to worry; what if there is no escape? Stuck for eternity. Would I ever encounter other living creatures, living people like me? It seems unlikely. What's the chance of someone swimming down this far? There is no up, no down. No left or right. I could look behind me to find the surface of the water. That would be an exit, but one cannot approach the exit if there is nothing to propel forward with.  
  
A crowd roars in my ears, and I find myself in the fighting ring. I clutch my sword nervously, watching my steel-faced opponent. He shows no emotion. He shows no fear. He shows no sign of movement. Just stares at me, holding his sword.  
  
I see a familiar face in the crowd. He is younger, but it is definitely him. I deduce that he is a good friend, as he is present in my memories so far.  
  
I wait for the fight to start. I know what is going to happen today. There are only two possible outcomes. Death or survival. I don't stand a chance against this man.  
  
There is no way out. I am going to suffer at the hands of a stranger. The end is here. I doubt there would be a worse fate than this. Fate is laughing in my face as I grip my sword, forcing my hands to stop shaking.  
  
This can't be real. I am dreaming. All just a dream.  
  
But in this situation the truth cannot be ignored. This is real. I am not dreaming. This is happening.  
  
A man cries out signalling the start of the fight. I react just in time, and my sword clashes with my opponent's. I move to the left for more room and swing blindly. He blocks as if he were swatting a fly. He swings once and nearly decapitates me but I manage to block and commando-roll before another swipe is made. Leaping to my feet, I try desperately to find a weakness in my opponent. But this man is practically invincible; no wonder he's so calm.  
  
For ten seconds we both stand still; I am breathing heavily, hands and sword shaking, trying not to have a panic attack. He is standing there, holding his sword and examining the dirt as if this is a normal everyday activity for him.  
  
Then all of a sudden, he leaps forward and slams his sword straight into my chest, slightly to the right. I can feel how close he came to cutting my spinal cord. He pulls the sword out and wipes it against a piece of cloth as if he were wiping off dust. I am unable to do anything, and clutching the wound I fall.  
  
As my sight begins to falter I see my opponent getting ready for the final blow. This is it. One more swing and I am living no more. Out of the corner of my eye someone climbs into the ring, burning with rage, pulling out a small dagger. He grabs my opponent, and before I become unconscious I see him fall to the ground, blood flowing out his throat.  
  
I am sitting in the bar. The whole place goes quiet as two scarred men burst in, saying they are after a man called Jonathan. The person next to me turns around and stands up, his hand drifting toward concealed throwing knives.  
  
The two men say that they heard Jonathan killed someone at the Copper Coronet fighting ring. They were close friends of the person he killed, my opponent, and they want to know if it was true. Jonathan gives them a vivid description of his death. They each pull out a crossbow and fire...  
  
[Hold my breath as I wish for death - Oh please god wake me]  
  
I wait for my mind to become open again. Boredom has become almost unbearable. Taking refuge in returning memories is the only thing keeping me from insanity. One day there will be nothing left to remember, but as I walk into the government building I find it hard to resist.  
  
I was there because I am a Cowled Wizard. I passed the test easily, as Jonathan knew an ex-Wizard who explained the processes involved. I am narrowing down the suspects, having been in this position a mere fortnight. Already it's down to three. I thought it would be easy, that the answer would be obvious, but I was wrong. All Cowled Wizards were scum in a way, some less corrupt than others. All it took was one slip-up and the mole was dead meat.  
  
I am packing up, ready to leave the building when I hear voices and stop what I'm doing. Walking so no noise is made, I approach the voices. In a room, door ajar, a Cowled Wizard is talking. As I listen in I discover that the particular Wizard is bribing someone to keep quiet about a slip-up. I instantly recognise his voice.  
  
One more step left...  
  
[Now the world is gone I'm just one - Oh god help me]  
  
I am slowly remembering everything. Fragments now come at least twice a day, though I can't be sure of time anymore. Some are useless memories of childhood. But anything is better than nothing.  
  
Using wooden swords to fight the kid down the road. Walking around town with friends. Getting drunk. Although they don't aid me at all, they are comforting. I am determined not to sit here forever. I will find out why I was put in here. I will figure out a way to escape.  
  
I am planning with others about how to assassinate the mole...  
  
There is a special gathering at the Promenade. A concert of sorts. Celebrating something or other, didn't really take notice. The mole will be there, accepting an award or beginning the proceeds. The Promenade has got to be the best place for the assassination to take place. It is littered with hiding spots, perfect for a headshot at the mole.  
  
On the walls surrounding the Promenade are six domes. Two are located above the south-west and north-east entrances. The other four (westward, eastward, northward and southward) are along the lengthier sides of the oval-shaped walls. It is from the southward dome that I will perform the assassination.  
  
Unbeknownst to most citizens of Amn, these six domes have hidden rooms. These are accessed simply by climbing up onto the surrounding walls, walking to the dome and finding a secret doorway. The secret doorway is easy to find if you know how.  
  
I enter the hidden room and remove a panel facing into the Promenade. The stage is being set up in the middle of the Promenade, and I have a clear shot. Two men enter and guard the entrances. All is set.  
  
I pull out the crossbow, aim it at the stage, and wait.  
  
As the day progresses, the crowd slowly gets bigger. At two, the celebration begins. Time to let the show begin.  
  
In more ways than one.  
  
More waiting. The mole doesn't appear to be here yet. I watch townspeople gathering and think about how easy this is. Almost too easy, like I am being set up. But that's not possible, as there is utmost security surrounding this.  
  
It is four and the mole still hasn't arrived. What if he pulled out at the last minute? He couldn't have heard our plan, the only person in the Cowled Wizards who could've told him is I, and I didn't do anything. Unless someone in our select group let the secret out...  
  
I look to the guards, then back through the crosshair. Once more I take aim, and wait. Suddenly I feel an arrow pressed to my back, and realise I am caught. I die wondering how they found out.  
  
[Hold my breath as I wish for death - Oh please God help me]  
  
Now I know that I am dead. Or at least, I was at one point. Is this ocean of sorts an afterlife? My memory has revealed all to me, yet still I ponder. Maybe this is hell. Maybe I am doomed to live my non-life for the rest of eternity.  
  
I lay in the darkness of my closed eyelids for days, weeks, months, doing nothing at all. Hoping that somehow it will all end. Other memories of my past life resurface, empty thoughts and emotions.  
  
Do I have any memories of how I got to this place, anything before the awakening period?  
  
No.  
  
Is there anything similar in my mind, to which I could identify this hole? Any knowledge of how to escape?  
  
No.  
  
Would I care if this was Satan's palace, an eternal torture for sins long forsaken, evils long forgotten?  
  
I do not know...  
  
I am reliving my death for the ninetieth time, when I hear a rustle. My eyes dart open, and I look around wildly to find the sound. It is the first time I have heard something real.  
  
I see a bulky humanoid figure, slightly blurred from the water. It doesn't seem to notice me at first, so I call out. Who are you and why are you here?  
  
The figure replies. It is doing repairs on something and needs a certain tool. It tells me the tool is here.  
  
I tell him that I know not of any tool. He says that he knows its location, but it has been misplaced. I realise it hasn't answered my first question. I ask again; it does not reply.  
  
I consider. Maybe this figure is under orders from a higher being. I ask, and it tells me its master is Jonathan. Jonathan! The figure tells me that Jonathan is very cruel, but since he is a master nonetheless, he must obey.  
  
I ask why his master is so cruel. He tells me that Jonathan went insane when one of his comrades was killed by the most-skilled member of his organisation. The creature tells me of awful experiments undertaken. I pose him the question, what experiments?  
  
The figure stares at me for a moment then walks to a door. As he leaves, he turns and informs me.  
  
I am an experiment.  
  
[Darkness - Imprisoning me - All that I see - Absolute horror]  
  
I am an experiment? That doesn't make sense. The door slams shut and the figure leaves me to silence once again.  
  
Wait. A door?  
  
I stare out, trying to make it out. Yes, there is a door! And walls, and a table, and...  
  
The answer to my question is staring me straight in the face. Where am I?  
  
[I cannot live - I cannot die - Trapped in myself - Body my holding cell]  
  
I am in a round tube. A round liquid-filled tube.  
  
I have been preserved in a jar.  
  
Suddenly the whole situation seems as clear as the water I am floating in. Before I fully died I was placed in this metaphorical fish tank.  
  
More memories come back! Jonathan placed me in a preservation cell, hoping that I would someday be revived. Whether he has been working on how to pull this off or not I do not know.  
  
This has not been the first time I've fallen into deep sleep and awoken with no memory. Though I do not know why.  
  
By pure coincidence I notice a reflection on the glass of my tank. At first it is hard to make out, and when I see it properly I almost jump out of my skin.  
  
[Landmine - Has taken my sight - Taken my speech - Taken my hearing]  
  
I am not fully human! What is this monstrosity I am seeing!  
  
The years have wasted me away! I am no more than a floating blob in my tank!  
  
[Taken my arms - Taken my legs - Taken my soul - Left me with life in hell]  
  
Horror of horrors. There is no way I can be saved by Jonathan, or by anyone, now. They have waited too late, and there is no one to free me. I do not want to live if I am missing ninety-percent of my body! WON'T SOMEBODY HEAR ME!  
  
This is why I chose to fall into a slumber, deep enough to rid myself of memories. I would be suicidal if there was a way in which to commit suicide. I decide that I shall fall into another slumber, in the hopes that I never wake up.  
  
The sound of footsteps rings in my ears... 


End file.
